Musickind
by godtech
Summary: The kids have gone their separate ways. After a stroke of luck, John Egbert reunites with Dave Strider, sparking a chain of events that lead both to try to live life to the fullest. 16 chps /Sadstuck, Fluff, BL; R&R/crit? c:
1. Chapter 1

Musickind

A Homestuck Fanfiction

DaveJohn / JohnDave

Chapter One

Your name is John Egbert and it is the 9th of December. It is pretty chilly outside and you forgot to take your favorite scarf with you. You've spent your leisurely morning walk around the park thinking about your schedule for the next month or so. Gosh, you're pretty booked! Today is basically the last day you're free for a long time.

However, you don't regret it for a moment. You are a GROWN MAN now, just past the age of 25, working as a MUSICIAN, and you LOVE what you do. You are also unsure why you are mentally capitalizing random words… Probably something you did as a kid, but you can't really remember now. It was so long ago. Anyway, you think you'll stop now.

Like you mentioned, you are a musician. You had decided to take up the piano again and used to play wherever you could get a jig. Hotel lobbies, bars, you name it. But by a stroke of luck, you were discovered by a talent scout, and now you're playing in fancy concert halls! You were always a pretty lucky guy. Honestly, you only started playing the piano again because you didn't really know what else to do with your life after basically saving the world, which you'd actually rather not talk about for the moment. You're past that now and are living a fairly normal life.

But enough dilly-dallying in the past! You only have one more day left for your break before you have to attend back-to-back concerts, press conferences, signings, and who knows what else your manager's got in store for you! You'll have to consult your trusty smart phone later, when your fingers aren't freezing.

So, you decide to talk walk around the city. Boy, you sure do love walks! That, and you don't really have anyone to spend your day with. Your trusty feet can get you anywhere. You visit bakeries, libraries, grocery stores, places where people usually go when they have too much time on their hands.

That was when you stopped in front of a music shop. Hey, you haven't bought the newest CDs yet! You might as well get them now, since you won't have any time to get them later, unless you count illegally downloading them from who knows where. You enter the shop.

Ahh, that new CD smell. Wait, do CDs even have that smell? You quickly dismiss the thought. It's times like these you're glad you don't really know anyone, so you don't run the risk of embarrassing yourself!

Oh, you haven't gotten this one yet! Or this one! Oh man, you should probably pick this one up too. How about thi-!

"Oh, gosh! I am so sorry, I wasn't watching where I was going!" You apologize profusely and bow your head in embarrassment after bumping into someone, too engrossed in all these awesome new CDs. Geez, even with your glasses, you're still blind as fuck. You look up. Why is this guy… wearing shades… in a store… on a cloudy day?

"Egbert?"


	2. Chapter 2

Musickind

A Homestuck Fanfiction

DaveJohn / JohnDave

Chapter Two

Your name is Dave Strider and you're not sure where you're going in life. You basically are kind of a nobody and you're not sure if that qualifies as ironic or not. But that doesn't bother you much. At least, not on the outside.

You are a legit ADULT now and have been working MULTIPLE JOBS to make ends meet. You MOVED OUT of the apartment you and BRO used to share and opted for a smaller, cheaper place. You have GIVEN UP on your music and ironically ironic WEBCOMICS, something which you've kept private all these years. Ok, all of this capitalizing is getting on your nerves. You stop this bullshit.

You've been sitting in your room all day. It's a Sunday, and it's your only free day of the week. You spend the rest of the week working endlessly. It's dark, and that has been affecting your mood. But then again, every day is dark when you wear shades 24/7. However, you've stopped wearing your shades to be ironic. You have a different reason now, but you'd rather not talk about that right now. You have no time for self-loathing.

You spontaneously decide to go outside. But it's as cold as fuck… You decide to get yourself a thick jacket. There, incentive to go outside… sort of. Of course, you'll be hitting those thrift stores. Hey, no judging! You often find pretty decent stuff there, although pretty useless, but decent. Maybe even _cool_.

On the subject of coolness, even though you are poor as shit, you are still cool as fuck. You can never turn off your coolness. Never. Ladies be flirting with your ass, but you're, admittedly, too embarrassed by your current state of affairs that you dare not engage in any mating rituals. Even though, hot damn, those ladies are _fine_!

Also on the subject of ladies, another reason you (coolly) reject them ladies is because you've been unironically heartbroken. You then realize unironic isn't even a word, but then again, you don't really care. You'd also not like to talk about this.

But enough of being uncool. You are walking down to the thrift store, and damn, it's cold. The wind is starting to act up too. Damn wind! Wait, no, you take that curse back without really knowing why.

On the way to the thrift store, you pass by your old favorite music shop. There's music flowing from the doors (obviously) and you're tempted to step inside. Not that you're interested in the music. Of course not. It's because it's cold! Yes, that is your reason and you walk in with that firmly in mind.

You were only planning to stand idly by the entrance for a few moments until the wind died down, but the shop was blasting these sick beats that you unconsciously start drifting towards the CDs.

What! When did this douchebag come out with another CD? Hey, you remember listening to some of these guy's beats. Oh, and this guy was pretty rad back in the day. You wonder if his still any goo-!

"Oh, gosh! I am so sorry, I wasn't watching where I was going!" Someone is saying to you, after rudely bumping into you, interrupting your chain of thought. Not cool. Dude's got his head bowed. His hair's messy and he's gone an armful of CDs. He looks up and you're unironically taken aback.

"Egbert?"


	3. Chapter 3

Musickind

A Homestuck Fanfiction

DaveJohn / JohnDave

Chapter Three

You are John Egbert and you suddenly recognize this guy. Why didn't you recognize him sooner? Gosh, you're getting senile in your old age. But you're not even that old yet… Moving on…

"Dave Strider?" You tentatively ask. Without thinking, you drop the load of CDs you've collected and give him the biggest hug you've given anybody in a long time. He tenses up and people are staring, but you don't care! You've finally met someone you know again! You almost tear up. Almost.

"Oh my gosh, Dave, how are you! I've missed you so much! We haven't talked since you and Jade moved away! We lost contact… Oh! Where _is_ Jade? Is she here?" You look around, and then look at Dave, who turns his head away to avoid your stare. Not that you can see his eyes anyway, hidden behind those shades. Oops, you seem to have stepped over the caution tape.

"She's away," he answers simply. "That's all there is to say on the matter." And that usually ends the conversation. Something must have happened to Jade? What did he mean "away?" Like, on a trip or away forever? Wow, now you feel like a douche. You guess he notices your discomfort and tries to change the subject.

"What about Lalonde?" he asks. "Or, should I say, Mrs. Egbert? You two got married before we left. Perfect happy couple? Kids?" Now it's your turn to look away.

"Sh-she's gone too," you answer, taking a step back. "Been gone for a long time now. And no kids." Wow, this has gotten really awkward really fast.

"Shit, dude, I'm sorry," he says, touching his neck and looking down. You shake your head.

"No, I'm sorry too," you say. You try to laugh it off. "It's been a while now! And I guess I'm over it. Maybe I'll even tell you about it some time! Uhh, that is, if you want to keep in touch and stuff." You bend down to pick up those CDs you dropped. Damn it, why were you holding so many? Dave starts picking them up too.

"Yeah, that'd be cool. Although Sundays are the only days I'm free. I'm out in the real world working a job, you know. Just in case you thought I was the pimp daddy master, gettin' paid just to be cool." He says with a slight smirk. You give him one of your big goofy grins. Dave always knew how to make any situation better. He was always so charismatic. You guess that's why you liked him so much in the first place.

"Um, yeah, that's cool! Um, but I think my schedule is pretty packed for the foreseeable future. I'll have to check on that later. But I totally have time today if you want to hang out. Today is pretty much my last free day for a while. But I will definitely make time for you if you want!" You try not to sound too desperate. Emphasis on try.

So you both exchange numbers after he ironically (or would it be unironically?) gaps at your phone and ask how the shit you have the latest and coolest tech when he has his shitty flip phone still. You're not at all sorry for bursting into laughter. You figure if Dave wanted to tell you about his financial status, he would let you know. So you decide not to pry.

And since you're free for the rest of the day, you decide to follow him around. After asking him, of course. Just in case he had any plans, which he didn't. He also didn't seem to mind you tagging along, so you feel less bad.

Dave announces your arrival at the thrift store, in his usual monotonic voice. Although you didn't think he'd be very ecstatic anyway. But you're not judging! You and your dad used to go thrift store shopping once in a while! You can find really neat things in there! Except one time, your dad brought home this creepy harlequin figure. You "accidentally" knocked it over once.

You both shop around a little before finally hitting the sweater aisle. You think he'd look _dashing_ in one of these grandma-type Christmas sweaters. You said it'd be ironic, and he just stares at you.

"Always the jokester. You haven't changed a bit, Egbert." He says, before turning away. You can't help to do anything but giggle sheepishly and follow him around. Dave finally picks on a rather surprisingly stylish (and unsurprisingly red, of course) jacket. You both head for the register and the nice lady rings the jacket up, commenting on its nice color, to which Dave responds with a smirk.

And before he could do anything, you whip out your credit card. Of course, this had been your plan from the start! At least, after hearing Dave was shopping for a jacket and remembering the date.

"Egbert, what-" he starts, but you hold up your hand.

"Think of it as a belated birthday present! I missed it by almost a week!" You say, completing the transaction. You hand the jacket back to Dave and he just stares down at it.

"I'll owe you now," he says, unsure of what to make of the situation. You shrug and pull him out the door.

"You don't have to! This day has been enough. Really, if you know what I've been through these past couple of years, you could say that this is basically the best day I've ever had in a long time!" You say, pretty sure you have a huge, stupid, toothy grin on your face. Dave gives you another one of his signature stares. "So, thanks, Dave. I mean it. You don't owe me anything."

"Egbert," he says. "That's not my style, man. You say that, but I'm not feelin' it. I'll still feel like owin' you." You've reached the intersection, and you both know you have to split up. It's getting pretty late, anyway, and as much as you'd like to ask him to hang out some more over dinner, you have to check in with your manager.

"Hmm, then how about this," You take out your phone and bring up a blank text. Dave is still pretty much in awe at your phone. "Come to this address next Sunday. You can make it up to me by being there, okay? And wear something nice!"

Without waiting for an answer you give him a quick hug, another thank you, and head off towards your house, feeling a lot better than you could have ever expected.


	4. Chapter 4

Musickind

A Homestuck Fanfiction

DaveJohn / JohnDave

Chapter Four

You are Dave Strider and you are standing awkwardly in front of a huge concert hall, in your best clothes. And by best clothes, you mean the sweetest pair of jeans anyone had ever set eyes on, a partially-ironed (you ain't no housewife!) button up shirt, and the Aces tux you saved from when you were 13, although you obviously had it modified now that you are a grown man.

Even though you look totally sweet, you are also totally out of place. Is this even the right address? You check the text John sent you. Yes, it is. What the hell, John?

"Mr. Strider?" a sickeningly sweet voice asks you. You look up to find a woman smiling at you inquisitively.

"Wow, didn't know I was that famous," you say, raising an eyebrow. She smiles with more confidence.

"Mr. Egbert said I'd be able to find you with those shades on," she says. Mr. Egbert? What is he, some big hot shot here? "If you would, Mr. Strider, please follow me."

So you do. She was kinda good on the eyes anyway. The lady shows you through a few halls and into a large concert hall. You can't even begin to describe how huge this place was. So many seats! So many rows! And that stage! You could have pretty epic rap battles there that could transcend all the ironies. And dig this: you get front row seats! Then you start to feel just a tiny bit self-conscious. Everyone was dressed in fancy tuxedos and expensive dresses. And there you were. In jeans. But that's okay, because your chill shades makes up for everything.

You guess Mr. Egbert the hot shot will be here any minute and be seated by your side. But minutes start passing by and then you start worrying for the poor guy. What if he got caught in traffic? Or got into a car accident? Or hooked up with a woman and ditched you! Nah, it's Egbert.

But then your fears increased tenfold when the starts start dimming and the stage is lit. The chatter settles down and you look around like a crazy person. Where the hell was Egbert?

Some douchebag comes up on stage and thanks everyone and talks about more stuff you don't care. Until something he says catches your attention.

"Our performer tonight, John Egbert, has prepared several compilations that will surely leave an impression on you all!" he announces, and proceeds to go on about more useless things. Now hold on to your grass-eating, poop-shitting horses! John Egbert? The performer tonight? Woah, woah, woah. What was going on. John Egbert cannot be this… cool?

"Please, everybody, give a warm welcome to Mr. John Egbert!" He raises his arm all ceremonial like and finally leaves. The curtain spreads and Egbert's walking his way over to this real slick looking piano. For a piano, it's pretty damn nice. Egbert catches your eye and gives you one of his signature goofy grins, and you hold up your hand in acknowledgement.

He sits down. Scoots his chair in. Cracks his knuckles. Places his hand on the keys.

And plays.

And those fingers were like magic. You knew Egbert could play the piano, but you didn't know he was Mozart! Egbert's fingers seemed to glide over every key. His foot on the pedal, in perfect rhythm. The music was so soothing, so calming. Classical music wasn't your glass of apple juice, but Egbert's playing was so amazing you couldn't help but to appreciate the music.

The song ended and the trance was broken. The crowd applauded, and you followed suit. Egbert stood up and bowed and looked your way. Aw, hell, you gave him a quick smile. He deserved as much. You guess he was pretty happy as he started bouncing up on his toes. The process went on for a couple more songs, with a few breaks here and there.

It seems Egbert has played the last song on the brochure. People are about to stand up but Egbert quickly reaches for the microphone.

"Please wait, everybody!" He announces, waving his free arm around. Silly Egbert. "Tonight, I've composed an extra song for you all. Please think of it as my special treat for my first performance at this hall! It's dedicated to a very special friend of mine, one whom I've just had the pleasure of getting to know once again." He smiles in your direction and proceeds to the piano.

He sits and takes a deep breath. Once again, his fingers dance across the black and white keys, forming a melody that's quite familiar to you. Where have you heard that song before? It's pretty catchy too. Really catchy. But then the song ends and it's such a shame, it had a pretty rad tune.

And then everyone is standing up. Everyone is cheering. Egbert bows and has the biggest, lamest, stupidest buck-toothy grin on his face. But you can't help it. You're smiling too. You're probably displaying so much emotion, Egbert is flipping the fuck out.

And then you remember the song. It was _your_ song. _You_ remixed this song so long ago. How could you have possibly forgotten?

The song was "Explore Remix".


	5. Chapter 5

Musickind

A Homestuck Fanfiction

DaveJohn / JohnDave

Chapter Five

You are John Egbert and you have just given probably the best performance of your entire life. You felt really good about it, but after seeing Dave's face and the smile he had on, you felt extremely accomplished. After all, there was so much emotion on Dave's face! You were practically flipping the fuck out!

The curtains closed and you run towards your fitting room. You had already let your manager know to bring Dave over after the show was over. Gosh, your heart is beating pretty fast! You wonder if this was too weird after being away from each other for so long. But you're pretty sure it's okay. After all, you two were the best of friends back then! It shouldn't be weird! But you worry anyway. And it's too late to worry anymore, because ohmygod, he's coming through the door!

"Egbert," he said, failing to resist a smile. "That was the shit. Seriously, man. I'm honored to have my remix played by the famous John Egbert the hot shot pianist. In front of millions of people." You blush.

"Thanks, Dave! It was nothing really. The tune was pretty simple and I threw it together during the week in my spare time. I'm really, really glad you liked it! And I'm not famous!" You say, stretching your arms behind your head. "At least, not yet, I hope!"

"So now what? It's still pretty early," Dave says looking around for a clock, you suppose.

"Actually, it's, like, 9…" You say, pointing to the clock on your desk.

"Like I said, early. What do you want to do for fun? Hit some bars, get a couple of drinks?" He asks, crossing his arms. You smile, feeling nostalgic. It's like you two were never apart. You can't help but to admire the way Dave is always so charismatic. How he is always so confident.

"Actually, I don't drink. The last time I ever did was probably at… my wedding…" You trail off. Oh, darn. Now it's awkward again. AND it's your fault. AGAIN! Gosh, you are so dumb!

"Oh," Dave says, not really knowing what else to say. "How about just a walk around then? You're pretty tired anyway, right? Don't wanna get wasted when you've gotta work tomorrow." He puts his hands in his pockets. Is he wearing jeans?

"That sounds great!" So the two of you proceed outside. Luckily, it isn't as cold as it was last week! So there wasn't any dire need for any scarf. Your tux was fine enough. But… Dave seemed to be shivering slightly.

"Nah, I'm fine, man." He assures you, zipping up his jacket a bit. "You're just used to it 'cuz you're the Heir of Breath, remember. Wind powers." He flashes you a quick thumbs up before his hand retreats into his pockets once again.

"Ex-heir," you correct. "Did you… retain any of your powers?" You were hesitant about asking, because Rose had a pretty bad incident with some of her powers in the past. You, however, didn't notice much. Maybe a breeze or two in the house, but nothing too extreme. Dave shakes his head.

"Not particularly. I'll lose track of time, but that's a problem most people have anyway." He pauses for a moment. "Jade, on the other hand… is a different story."

Another awkward silence.

"Same here with Rose," you say, and you both look at each other, stopping for a moment. And in that moment, you both suspect you know what has happened. "I guess I'll tell you about it someday."

"Same," he replies, his breath forming a barely visible fog in the night. "When we're ready." You both nod, in mutual understanding. In practically no time at all (was that Dave's unintentional influence?) you both find your way back to the concert hall.

"Do you need a ride home, Dave?" You ask once you're both inside. Dave had mentioned earlier in the week that he didn't own a car, so you had looked up the directions via bus for him. He shifts slightly, weighing the outcomes. "If you're worried about what I'd think, it's too late. I'm already judging you." He purses his lips even more.

"Fine," he agrees, over exasperating his sigh and slouched shoulders. He gives you his address and you input it into Google Maps. Where would the world be without Google?

You start feeling like you have déjà vu. Dave is making the same expression at your car as he did with your phone. You start to reconsider inviting him to your house later on… You car is a sleek, black, fancy (in the words of Dave) BMW that you bought after you got signed at the hall. It was your one and only indulgence. After that shenanigan, the two of you get in the car and make your way towards Dave's house. During the way over, you talk about how your lives have been, leaving out Rose and Jade, of course. That discussion is reserved for another time.

In no time yet again, you reach Dave's place. It's a quaint little apartment, but you're apparently not invited in. He says his thanks, promising to text you later on, gets out, and closes the door. You pull the window down and call after him, suddenly remembering something. He leans into the car to get a better view, and his head's slightly tilted so that you can just barely see those red eyes of his.

"Are you free next Sunday?" you ask. Actually, you aren't, but it's not a concert, so you're pretty confident you can cancel or reschedule. Dave ponders this for a moment.

"Damn right I'm free. This is America." He says. You have a feeling you've heard that line somewhere before… "Just kidding. Of course I'm free. Are you asking me out on another date?"

"It's not a date!" You say, tightening your grip on the steering wheel in embarrassment. Dave just responds with a sly smirk. "But it's another surprise!"

"Oh, goody, it's like every week is my motherfuckin' birthday!" He says. You're not sure if he's being sarcastic or ironic or whatever. "But seriously, yeah, you can count me in on anything. I have pretty much nothing else to do." With that, he gives you a final salute and heads into the building.

When he's as good as gone, you stay there for a few more minutes, wondering if this is going too fast. You just met each other again only last week, but you're practically spending every weekend together now! But you haven't really sensed any resentment or awkwardness from Dave. But that's just Dave being Dave. Then, you start worrying if he thinks you're showing off to him! Oh, no, that would be the worst! You don't want him to think you're trying to one up him. You'll make it up to him soon. You promise.

As you start your engine, you make a mental note to clear out all your Sundays from now on.


	6. Chapter 6

Musickind

A Homestuck Fanfiction

DaveJohn / JohnDave

Chapter Six

You are Dave Strider and you have not been your cool, nonchalant self lately, and it's all Egbert's fault. He's in the lead in the Cool Competition, and that is just wrong. It is wrong. No one should be cooler than you.

But then again, you're not too worried about that. Really, you're not. For the first time in a long time, you're smiling again. And you're not spending your Sundays inside all day in self-loathing. Not that you do that shit. You're too cool for that. And that would be unironic.

Yet another week has passed and you spent practically every waking moment texting Egbert. Although he's a bit slow to reply, but that's cool. He has a life and a job and stuff. Seriously, though. He's just a concert pianist. He doesn't hold concerts every day! Why the hell does he take so long to reply to those texts? And why is he busy every day? That doesn't even make sense. You suddenly understand shit. And the bad shit. Not the good shit.

Why are you even thinking about this anyway? What is taking Egbert so long anyway? He was supposed to pick you up ten minutes ago. You texted him five minutes ago, but realized he was probably driving and felt kinda stupid. You also weren't sure how to dress this time around, since you were critiqued the last and weren't given any special instructions. So you put on your favorite jacket, a slashed record shirt for old time's sake, and your infamous cool kid jeans. But you're not a kid anymore, so you're not sure if that's still cool or not.

While you're pondering the meaning of life (not really), you hear a honk and look out your window. Fancy Egbert and his fancy car. You had to admit, it was a pretty sweet ride. You also had to admit you're pretty jealous. How did derpy ol' Egbert become rich and famous and you were stuck in this lousy apartment working your ass off every day? The world ain't right, man. You head on downstairs after locking up and get in the car.

"Where to tonight, Egbert?" you ask, buckling up.

"I told you, it's a surprise!" he says, starting the engine. "And I'm sorry for being late. I ran into traffic and just got your text. Sheesh, Mr. Impatient!"

"I didn't want to be stood up," you say, with that same laid-back expression on your face. Not that it would matter, since Egbert's eyes are glued to the road anyway. Dude drives like a grandma.

"And I told you again, it's not a date! Gosh, Dave!" he laughs it off and you smile quickly. "I'm not-"

"A homosexual, I know," you say, sighing. "If I had a boondollar for every time you said _that_ I wouldn't be living in that dump."

And so the conversation proceeds with more name calling and teasing until Egbert parks in an underground lot. You are a bit unfamiliar with the area, looking around hesitantly as the two of you exit the lot. Down the street a bit, you see some flashing lights.

"Where are we?" you ask as Egbert catches up to you, making sure he has parked in a spot where security cameras are watching and his doors are all locked. You think he should have bought a less attractive car instead.

"Still a surprise! Come on, it's over there!" And with that, he leads you over to the place with the lights. As you draw closer, the booming vibration of a strong bass beats loudly into the air. Lights are streaming from the old building. What the hell was this? It looks like a…

"It's kind of a dance club!" Egbert shouts over the noise. You can barely make out his figure, what with the combination of your shades and the darkness and the flashing lights.

"There's a huge fuckass line, how are we going to get in?" you say, pointing to the line in front of the door. Typical dance club style. There's even a stereotypical black guy standing guard. Egbert motions you to the front of the line.

"Welcome back, ET," the guard announces, unlinking the chains for you two to head in. Okay, you are now flipping your shit. What the fuck is going on.

"ET?" you ask Egbert. "You're a fucking alien?" He flashes a grin your way.

"It stands for ectoTherapist," he says. "In honor of my and Rose's old chumhandles, remember?" Of course you do. You gotta' admit (not out loud, of course) that that was pretty sweet. Not the cool sweet. The disgusting yet adorable (did you just think that word?) sweet. Moving on.

The inside of the building was pretty typical of dance clubs. Flashing, seizure-inducing lights, rumbling EDM (that's electronic dance music, for you coolness illiterates), guys grinding on girls, girls grinding on girls, drinks flying around everywhere. The usual.

The scene brings back memories. When you were younger and fresh out of high school, you tried being a disc jockey. But times were tough and you weren't getting hired. Clubs were simply not in need of DJs. Especially ones that were as young as you were. They wanted experience, which you didn't have yet. If only they had given you the time of day. You could have been great. That was pretty much the end of that. Being back in a club was bringing bad memories up, and you contemplate fleeing the scene when Egbert had his back turned. But instead, you ask Egbert a question.

"So what's ET for?"

"It's my DJ alias," he says. You stare at him. Just stare.

"Is that some kind of fucking joke?" You are this close to losing the rest of your shit. He laughs and grabs your wrist, leading you to the turntables.

"No, this is my surprise! And please don't tell anyone I said 'DJ'," he yells over the noise, as you get closer to the speakers. "The younger kids are pretty touchy on that. They prefer the term 'turntablist'."

He pulls you up the stage and stops to pull up the hood on his jacket and reaches into his pockets. The thing he pulls out was pretty much the last thing you expected him to have. It was a pair of shades, identical to your own, but tinted blue on one side and purple on the other. He takes off his glasses, puts on the shades, and flashes you a smile and a thumbs up. You're pretty sure his shades are another show of honor and affection for his relationship with Lalonde. And that they're probably prescription. Egbert is as blind as fuck. In any case, he must have really loved Lalonde. Seeing that pulls a bit at your heart as you remember flashes of your past with Jade. But that's in the past and you're long over that. You try to focus on what the hell Egbert's up to.

"Stay here!" he says and goes to talk to the DJ- er, you mean, the turntablist. You stand there awkwardly and cross your arms, wondering where the hell you could run off to anyway. Sure, Egbert, just leave the cool guy standing around like an idiot. What's more surprising is that no girls are headed your way. You used to be a babe magnet back in the day. What's going on now? You are pretty sure you put on body spray (the DIAMONDS! kind) before you left. Maybe you look too much like a body guard with your ironic shades.

Egbert's still talking to the turntablist and pulls out a CD. He loads it up into the turntable. You've been away from them for a while, so it must be some kind of brand new machine. You don't recognize most of the buttons or functions, but you suppose it's pretty much still the same.

Wait. You just realized. ET. DJ alias. Shades. CD. Was Egbert… going to… oh god.

"Everybody in the club, make some noise!" That turntablist kid is kind of annoying. He's doing that fake announcer voice in that ghetto accent. He's not even black. You suddenly feel old. "DJ E.T. IS IN DA HOUSE." You feel the need to punch this guy in the throat. Who even talks like that anymore?

But apparently, the crowd goes fucking wild, because suddenly everybody is turned towards Egbert and screaming and shouting. You reiterate: what the fuck? Oh god, Egbert flashes a peace sign. That is so old ohgod ohgog oh god. But the girls are screaming, why? YOU UNDERSTAND NOTHING ANYMORE?

But then Egbert starts his song and suddenly you understand everything. His fingers work that turntable with speed and skill that rival your own. Okay, that was a lie, you are so out of practice, Egbert's skills supersede your own greatly. And that is probably saying not much, because you never got hired? But enough of you. Egbert was making the crowd his bitch.

You are getting another feeling of déjà vu. This has got to stop soon. Egbert's song was so familiar. Just like your Explore Remix. Was this another remix of your old songs? Then, it hits you. It kind of literally does hit you, because you backed up into a speaker and the vibrations almost knock you off your feet.

You are confident that that is a remix of the four songs you made for you and your crew when you were younger. They were your theme songs. They were the shit. Okay, they were actually pretty lame, but together, it was fucking _insane_. Egbert is pretty much a musical genius, and you are feeling a bit jealous?

If that didn't tip you over the jealousy scale, the screaming fangirls did. When Egbert was done with his sick beats, the girls were making a mad dash for him, screaming his DJ name. Which is weird, because they're shouting an alien's name, for god's sake!

Egbert was probably anticipating this, because he jumps off the stage, pulling you with him. You are both making a break for the back, where you suppose the VIP lounge is. The two of you turn into a hallway and he leads you down several corridors. Holy shit, how big is this place? You are pretty sure you've already lost the crowd of girls, but Egbert leads you into a room just to be safe.

You two are out of breath. God damn, you are out of shape. You should start jogging instead of walking. And maybe lay off those TV dinners.

"What… the hell… was that… Egbert…?" you ask between breaths. Egbert is also breathing hard, but not as hard as you. You (grudgingly) guess he is probably used to this and has gotten loads of exercise. This is the most ironic of ironies in the whole entire ironic universe. You collapse into a chair, unable to take this anymore.

"Dave, how did you manage to keep that straight look on your face while we were running?" Egbert runs a hand through his hair, making it look even more unruly than usual. You shrug. You don't even know.

"How does the universe work, Egbert, I don't know," you say, finally able to catch your breath. He just laughs in return. Then, awkward silence again. But this time, you're not sure what to say. You're kind of speechless at this point.

"You know," he says, breaking the silence. "It was all for you."

"What?" You look up at him. He's collapsed into the corner of the room, not even bothering to find a chair.

"I took up DJing to find you," he says, elaborating. "I thought you might have become a DJ, so I traveled around different clubs, hoping to find you. But I never did."

"Why?"

"I was lonely," he says without hesitation. "We lost touch and I didn't have any of your contacts. We all quit Pesterchum, so I couldn't find you there, although I did log in some days, in hopes of finding _something_. I tried looking for Jade too, but I couldn't find her either. You two are mysterious! It was like you guys had disappeared completely! So when I DJed at clubs, I would ask around for you. But no dice. What happened, Dave? Didn't you say you wanted to be a DJ? Wasn't it your dream?"

Silence again.

"I couldn't get a job," You finally say. "I don't think it was my lack of talents. As you know, I am pretty fucking amazing. It was the times, man. Back then, it was tough. I tried. I tried so hard. But then Jade and I needed money, and she was barely pulling through on her end. She became a scientist, but she wasn't getting paid millions of dollars either. She researched some weird shit nobody cared too much for. So I quit music. I took up as many jobs as I could to support us. I worked my ass off. In the end, Jade left me alone. She wanted to pursue her research. Sure, that meant I had one less mouth to help pay for, but I lost something inside of me. I was no longer important. You know that feeling? I was the fucking Knight of Time. And now I'm just some nobody." You basically just poured your whole life's story to him. Again, silence.

"I'm sorry, Dave," Egbert's voice was soft and caring. You wanted to say you didn't need that shit, but something inside you kept you from saying it. "You're important to me, you know."

And you realized it. Yeah, you are important to somebody! After all, Egbert went through all that shit to find you. You almost tear up. Almost. What the fuck are tears? You're too cool for that shit. So you laugh dryly.

"Fuck, Egbert, I can't hold all these emotions!" You laugh even harder, your hand on your forehead. Slowly, he joins in. You guess it is pretty silly. Two grown men talking about their problems like a bunch of hormonal teenage girls.

"Dave, I'm really glad I found you," You don't know when, but Egbert had gotten up and stood over you. He had his hand on your shoulder. That talented hand. You look up at him through your shades. Even though your shades made everything a million shades darker, he looked as if he were shining.

"Me too, Egbert."

[A/N] If you're reading this far, I just want to say thank you so much! ; u ; I've planned about 13 chapters for this fic, so I'm really glad SOME people have enjoyed it! I appreciate all the reviews, faves, alerts, reblogs, and likes! I look forward to writing more!


	7. Chapter 7

Musickind

A Homestuck Fanfiction

DaveJohn / JohnDave

Chapter Seven

You are John Egbert. That is all.

Actually, no, that is not all! You just had a really good time with Dave! Man, you haven't had this much fun since… wow, you can't even remember! Getting to know him a little better was the icing on the cake though. You're glad he opened up to you, but also a little upset you didn't do the same. Although, you guess it's better you hadn't! Tonight was all about and for Dave! Not you, although you sort of did steal the spotlight a little…

But now you're home again and you can finally relax. After all, you've got another busy week ahead of you! You kick off your socks and lie on top of your sheets for a while. Yup, today was a success. You can only hope the two of you will be like this for a while longer, if not forever! You're not sure how creepy you sound right now…

You seem to lose track of time, replaying the night over and over in your mind. A slight, mysterious breeze blows through, although you have no windows open, nor do you have your air conditioning on. It's nice and cool, though, so you drift soundlessly into sleep…

Over the next week, you are busy running around doing small concerts, interviews, and DJing on a few nights to blow off some steam. Dave's not the only one that works multiple jobs! However, your circumstances are different. He does it for the money, you for the break from reality.

Then, out of the blue, Dave gives you a phone call! Which surprised you, because all of your communications that happened during the weekdays have all been texts. You hoped you didn't sound too weird on the phone!

"Hel-"

"Stop," Dave's command stops you in the middle of your greeting. There's a pause from both ends. You from shock, and Dave from… what…? "Let me just say this before I change my mind. Because I almost hung up after the first ring. It took all my willpower just to keep the line on. Anyway. You. My place. Christmas Eve. Don't bring a present. You coming will be my present, okay?"

Woah, you're not really sure what to say! You've never been over to Dave's house before! Well, duh, you just met him and he moved from Texas, which you never visited either!

"S-sure, I guess!" You say, failing to mask your excitement.

"If you have nothing else planned, I mean. Sorry, forgot to ask…" he says, trailing off at the end.

"No!" You exclaim, probably a bit too quickly. Great, he probably thinks you're desperate now. "I mean, no, I don't have any plans! Um, but if you had any before that you're canceling because of me, I feel really bad!"

"Egbert, I am poor and have no friends, do you think I have any plans?" He says, quite nonchalantly. You're not sure whether to feel bad or not… considering Dave's cool-guy, lone-wolfish personality.

"Okay then! I guess I'll see you then!" You say, not even bothering to hide your enthusiasm this time.

"Great, I'll text you the address in a bit," he says. He sounded kind of… excited too? You're not sure, but his tone sure is different than usual! You've never really heard him sound excited before. "See ya… I guess." And he hangs up the phone before you could reply.

Um… wow! You guess that's all you can say. This is all so exciting! Wait, why are you acting like a hormonal teenage girl? This is just one dude inviting another dude, who happens to be his best friend since forever, to his house. It's not like this has never happened before, in the history of mankind.

You almost freak out when your phone vibrates and rings, grabbing your phone in midair after almost dropping it to an early death. You check the address and find out it's not too far from your place, which is pretty convenient.

You spend the rest of the week in pretty much the same stupor, whipping out your phone in record-breaking times every time you get a text message. Your manager has been wondering why you never answer her calls in the same manner, to which you simply wave off and walk away with your nose in your phone.

But the day's finally arrived! It's Christmas Eve, and you're standing in front of Dave's door, on the fourth floor, room thirteen. Wait a minute…

However, before you could finish wondering, you hear Dave's footsteps approaching. You look down at the bouquet of red roses in your hand, think that that was the stupidest idea you've ever had in your entire life, and chuck it halfway down the corridor. Jegus, you're dumb.

"Sup," Dave opens the door a bit unexpectedly. But you were expecting him to answer the door! Just not… so… quickly? "What are you looking at?" He proceeds to stick his head out to look in the direction you are looking in.

"Uh… Haha! Look, someone left a bouquet of roses in the middle of the hall! Someone must've gotten dumped or something! Ha… ha..!" Nice save. Dave raises an eyebrow, not totally buying the story.

"Just get your butt in here, Egbert," he says with a sigh and a more pronounced pursed lip. So you sprint inside before he could question the mysterious appearance of flora in his hall.

Dave's apartment was very simple, for lack of a better term. Or perhaps it's very minimalist! That's a bit of a euphemism, though. You guess he only buys the necessities and keeps his demands to a minimum. Nevertheless, his place could have passed for one of those fancy modern apartment homes.

"If you see a stray sock somewhere," Dave calls out from somewhere to your right. "I don't know how it got there."

"Did you clean up like 5 minutes before I came?" You ask, teasing back. He gives you something akin to a scoff.

"Do you think I'm some kind of douchebag that only cleans up his shit at the last minute before such a respected guest comes into his humble abode? Of course I didn't!" You turn his in time to see him duck below the counter, and you swore you could see a smile tugging at the edge of his lips. "It was 10 minutes."

"Simply breathtaking, Dave," you say with a shake of your head.

"I know, now go sit your ass down at the table, I've got dinner ready," he says, still hidden behind the counter.

"You made dinner?" you ask, a bit less cautious than you intended. However, when you see the delicious-looking chicken he brings out, you immediately want to take it back. You hope you're not drooling _too_ much. "W-woah, that looks delicious, man!"

"Hell yeah, I made it," he says. "As in, I made the trip to the supermarket. Do you think I'm a fucking housewife? All I had to do was pop this baby into the stove for a few minutes. Also, it was on sale. Dig in and tell me your life's story."

So you do. And the chicken is delicious. You and Dave take turns telling each other about your lives and what happened after the gang split. You're still not entirely sure how that even happened in the first place. But the nice thing about all this was that it was like you two were never apart. The two of you share secrets, tell jokes, and make fun of each other just like old times.

The chicken is eaten to the bones, with no meat left behind. (Dave told you to think of those poor children in Africa and to eat everything. Everything.) You feel as if your jeans are about to burst open. Dave is looking as equally satisfied with his dinner, sitting across from you on the couch. How did you guys even end up here? You're too full to even think.

"I'll go clean up the dishes," you say, trying to be a good guest. Dave makes a feeble attempt to stop you, but you shoosh him and he rolls over on his side, muttering some crude remark you pretend not to hear. It takes you every ounce of energy you have left to heave yourself off the suddenly very comfortable couch and get those dishes to the sink.

When you reach the kitchen and dump the dishes in the sink, you notice a red piece of paper lying on the counter in the corner. You shouldn't… but… aw hell, Dave wouldn't mind, would he? So you take a quick peek. In bold words at the top, it reads "Final Reminder of Late Payment." You pick up the paper gingerly. The date was marked for today.

"Egbert!" Dave's voice rang out suddenly from behind you, making you jump. He grabs the piece of paper away from you and crumples it up, shoving it into his back pocket. He couldn't even meet your eyes.

"Dave, are you really in that much trouble?" you ask, placing a hand on his arm. He lets you hang on for just a moment, but shakes you off.

"It's nothing," he says curtly. "I can handle it."

"Dave, oh gosh, if you're in so much trouble, I shouldn't have burdened you with this visit!" Now you feel horrible. You knew Dave was in financial trouble, but you didn't realize it was _this_ bad.

"Egbert, stop talking, you're giving me a headache," he says, running a hand through his hair. "I said I'd handle it. It's not like this hasn't happened before. And that time, I had two mouths to feed."

He's trying to assure you that nothing's wrong, but you just feel so awful. You're not even really listening to what he's saying. Without thinking, you blurt out something kinda stupid.

"Dave, move in with me!"

"… What?"

You grab both his arms and give him a good, long stare.

"Come live with me! At least, until this is over, and you can get back on your feet. I wouldn't mind at all! You wouldn't be burdening me in any way. I won't get in your way, and you won't get in mine! I promise! Please consider, Dave!" You're practically begging at this point. You will_not_ stand by idly and let your best friend go broke and homeless. Dave stands there contemplating for a long while. You let him think.

"Jegus, Egbert, you don't have to give me those puppy eyes," he looks away with a slight smile and you give him a back-breaking embrace. "Just a warning, I rap in my sleep."

So you decide to spend the night at Dave's house, sleeping on his couch after profusely refusing to let him sleep on the couch with you in his bed. You also rejected his shameless proposal to share the bed (as bros, of course) after seeing how narrow it was.

The next morning, the day of Jegu- you mean Jesus's birth, the two of you spend a few hours packing his things and loading them into your car. Luckily for the both of you, he doesn't have many belongings. You are not really surprised to find a bunch of shitty swords tucked away in his closet. Actually, you had to ask why they weren't in the fridge, to which he replied he needed the space for the chicken.

It only took two trips to get his things over, minus the furniture, which you promised to help him get as a house warming present when he found a new place, ignoring his death threats if you did.

When Dave stepped into your house, he was as equally in awe as he was in your phone and car. You're starting to grow tired of that, but it's okay! You don't have anything else, so you guess Dave's all awed out.

"Are you sure this isn't Ikea?" he asks as he gets himself acquainted with your guest room.

"Pretty sure," you reply, revealing your buck teeth in a smile and dropping off the last box in the room. "Do you need help unpacking?"

"Nah, I'll put things where I want," he says, surveying the room. "Find my zen." You leave him ironically chanting some sort of demonic-sounding meditation prayer or something.

You take a quick break by crashing on your couch and taking out your phone to check on messages. You reply to a few emails from your manager and a text or two from the concert hall director before closing your eyes. It feels as if you only closed them for a few minutes, but when you open them again, it's already dark. You guess being around Dave has distorted your sense of time somewhat. You also realize that may be the reason Dave has missed payments on his apartment.

You groan as you get up, having slept the wrong way. Your neck's a bit sore and you have difficulty turning, but you'll manage. You proceed to go down the hall to check up on Dave, but he's already standing in the middle of the dark hallway, so motionless that you have a mini heart attack and slam into the wall, scaring Dave in the process.

"Shit, dude, I almost knocked this thing over!" he grips onto the table with the glass display. The display that held a particular pink scarf.

"God damn it, Dave, what are you doing standing in the middle of the hallway without the lights on? Can you even _see_ the thing in there with those shades on?" You walk up to him, hand still dramatically gripping your shirt over your heart. He turns back to the case.

"Sure I can," he says, with a matter-of-fact tone. "It has a bit of a glow to it. Must be from her Seer powers." You squint at the scarf. In all your years of possessions, you have never seen it glow.

"I think it's because you're related that you can see it glowing," you finally tell him, not really knowing what else to say. No profound words.

You two just stand in silence for a while longer. Finally, he puts a hand on your shoulder. You turn to him and are greeted with a gentle smile, one you haven't seen on those lips for the longest time.


	8. Chapter 8

Musickind

A Homestuck Fanfiction

DaveJohn / JohnDave

Chapter Eight

You are Dave Strider and you had little difficulty adjusting to life in the Egbert residence. Then again, it's only been one night, and damn, is that bed comfortable. Also, like it or not, you had a bit of a moment with Egbert just now. No, not _that_ kind of moment, you sick fuck!

While you were standing there in the hallway, just staring at Lalonde's pink scarf, you were reminded of all the times you two had friendly arguments and how much you actually _did_ enjoy your sicknasty rap/poetry-offs. You also realized Egbert never told you how Lalonde disappeared. But then again, you didn't tell him how Jade left either.

For now, you're content with watching Egbert make you a glorious and fancy breakfast of milk and cereal. He even topped it off with some bananas, which you reluctantly eat. You dislike the way it leaves your breath smelling nasty afterwards, although you _do_ enjoy the taste.

Luckily for the two of you, all your jobs decided to take an extra day off and Egbert was able to clear his schedule for the day. You begin to think it's some sort of motherfuckin' miracle, but immediately abandon that thought. It reminds you too much of a certain somebody.

"What's the plan for today, Egbert?" you ask, finishing up the last bit of cereal and proceeding to bring the bowl up to your lips to drink the rest of the milk.

"I actually didn't plan that far ahead," he replies, drinking his milk properly using the spoon. "I don't think most shops are open today, but then again, I don't think you'd want to go shopping in your condition."

"Got that right," you reply, finishing up the milk and heading to the sink to wash the bowl.

"I've got some movi-"

"No," you say, before he could even offer _what_ gross movie they'd be watching. You know all his choices all too well. You bet he even had Platinum editions of his favorite Nicholas Sage or whatever the hell his name was.

"Rude!" Egbert exclaims, scrunching his nose a bit and pursing his lips Strider style. You grace him with a slight smirk. "How about you show me some of your 'sick beats' then?" He suggests, making quotation marks in the air with his fingers. You raise an eyebrow as he quickly dumps his bowl into the sink to wash later. Egbert shoves you along into a room near the hallway.

Egbert didn't show you this room yesterday, and it was probably a good thing. You were so tired from moving your things that you probably didn't have any energy left to marvel anyway. The room was fairly average in size and he had converted it into a music studio. On one side, there was a grand piano. The other side was home to a computer desk and turntables. It was safe to guess this is where Egbert practiced.

On the wall directly in front of you held another glass display, this one with a worn out, yet classy and elegant violin and bow. One guess on who its previous owner was. Egbert leads you over to the turntables.

"Dude, I haven't laid a finger on one of these in forever," you say, putting your hands in your pockets. Egbert gives you one of those toothy grins.

"If you love something, you never forget it," he says, stealing a glance at three picture frames you hadn't noticed before. Your eyes follow and a strange sensation tugs at your heart.

One of the photographs is of him and Rose, arms around each other. You can almost hear their laughter. Another is an old picture of him and who you suppose is his father. Egbert did mention something about his father's pipe obsession once. The last photo was of the crew, the four of you, when you were much younger. You don't even remember having this photograph taken. Damn, you still looked as slick as ever.

You brave a look at Egbert and he's lost in his own world, staring at the pictures. You wonder if he does that a lot. Just stare at the photos, thinking of a different life. You look away, feeling as if you're trespassing on private grounds. So you decide to make it up.

You flip a few switches on Egbert's turntables. He's right. It's as if you were never away from these babies in the first place. Egbert seems to have broken away from the spell and is now giving you his full attention. He gives you a CD to work with.

Suddenly, your fingers are flying all over the turntables. You're flipping switches, hitting buttons, and turning disks. All the skills you acquired from your younger days are flooding back to you in a huge wave. You're not sure what to make of this, but, hell, it feels pretty good.

"Keep playing," Egbert says, moving away from you. Where was he going? You look up, hands still on the machine, watching his every movement. He moves over to the piano and takes up a beat that enhances and harmonizes perfectly with yours. You knew it. This guy isn't human. He's an alien. He's a troll in disguise. You are flipping your shit again.

The two of you continue for a few more minutes, indulging each other in music. However, you run out of beats. Even the amazing Dave Strider runs out of ideas every once in a while. You're also tired from standing, so you go ahead and sit next to Egbert, pushing him over a bit, teasingly.

"Play that Explore Remix again," you say, playing a single note on the piano. How the hell can anyone play this thing, it has so many keys! Then again, a turntable has lots of buttons and knobs, so you take that thought back. It takes skill to use a turntable, and you've got all the skills in the world. Egbert just smiles and places his fingers on the black and white keys, playing note after note.

You get lost in the music. The tune brings back so many memories. How you used to be happy, carefree, an ignorant douchebag (ok, you still kind of are). You remember the fights you had with your bro, the conversations you had with your, dare you say it, _good__friends_. And you remember how you two are the only ones left. You're so lost in the music and your thoughts, you don't realize Egbert's already finished.

"Dave, if you don't mind," he says, hesitating a bit. "There's something I want to tell you."

[A/N] That's the end! Cliffhanger, I know. Anyway! Just another thank you message to everyone who's read this far! Thank you so much ; u ; If I could respond individually to reviews, I would! n_n


	9. Chapter 9

Musickind

A Homestuck Fanfiction

DaveJohn / JohnDave

Chapter Nine

You are John Egbert and you are a newlywed spending your honeymoon with your wonderful wife, Rose Lalonde, who refused to change her last name. However, the two of you agreed that Rose Egbert did not exactly have flair and elegance. The two of you aren't doing anything too fancy. You rented a small cottage (yeah, didn't know you could do that, did ya?) in the countryside, something Rose had been dreaming of for a while now.

"John," she says, waking you out of your stupor and placing a hand gently on your chest. "Did you make the proper plans for our meals?"

Silence for a couple of moments. Then. You sit up very suddenly, startling Rose and making her jump slightly. Food! Wow, you are dumb. So dumb. You do a facepalm x2 combo.

"Oh, gosh, Rose, I'm so sorry!" you say, ruffling your hair with your hands and making a strange, animal-like sound. "I was so excited about leaving that I totally forgot!"

"This is why I insisted you let me know your plans," she says, giving you sigh and a gentle smile. How did someone as dumb as you end up with someone as beautiful and intellectual as her? Then again, she must have loved you very much to have put up with the gap in intelligence. She knows she could do so much better. Her reason for liking you was that you were "procellous and unpredictable and charming," all of which were her ideal traits in a man, you suppose.

"We can try hunting!" you suggest, but she laughs in reply, a hand over her mouth. She is _such_ a lady.

"John, dear, you couldn't hurt an ant even if your life depended on it," Rose pulls the covers up around the two of you and gives you a quick peck on the cheek. It's a good thing her lipstick doesn't stain. "But if you do, I will not be complicit. It is not hunting season yet in this part of the weald."

"Hey! I've taken down imps before!" you retort, acting slightly offended. She arches an eyebrow and smirks. "Fine, I'll go see if the owner has any emergency food stocked," so you take her hand, fingers intertwined, and lead her into the kitchen.

Luckily for the two of you, there were canned foods stocked up. She cooks them up as best as she could, but canned food can only taste so good. It was late when the two of you arrived, so by the time you finished washing the dishes, there was nothing left to do outside.

"The sun has set," Rose points out. "Its lurid glare has moved on to younger timezones." Indeed it has, so you decide to go take a shower before slipping into a hopefully _exciting_ night.

You finish bathing and contemplating the meaning of life, returning to the bedroom, only to find Rose with her legs to her chest and her head in her arms. You run over and wrap an arm around her, startling her. She almost elbows you in the face out of surprise.

"John!" she says, a bit out of breath and perspiring a little. "When did you finish?"

You know the situation all too well. Rose is having another one of her post-grimdark episodes. You've encountered this a few times before, but as of late, they have been getting progressively worse and worse.

"Rose, why didn't you call me?" you say, eyebrows knitted into a furrow.

"John, please, I can handle it," she says, taking a deep breath to calm herself.

"Rose, don't try to prove anything," you say, voice almost breaking. The crack in your tone causes her to look up at you. You can't stand that pained look in her eyes. "Let me help you!"

"Stop it, John. It will only make the parting that much harder for the both of us," Rose replies, head down again.

"I know, we've already talked about this," you say, turning her to face you, perhaps a bit too aggressively. "I already knew from the start what I was getting myself into. But I trusted you and loved you. I love you so much, so please, let me help you."

Once again, she raises her head to look at you, studying your fierce gaze. At least, you hope it's fierce. You're not entirely sure you've covered up your fear completely or not. However, you know all is well when her lips curve into a smile and she wraps her arms around you, resting her head on your shoulder.

"John, you raised me from perdition," she whispered, touching your cheek. "If only for a short while. Of course I can trust you. You've always had my trust."

After giving her a few kisses on her cheeks, nose, and lips, she lowers herself onto the bed and beckons you to follow suit. You comply, and the two of you lie side by side, listening to the sounds of each others' breathing for a while.

"Rose, do you think about death often?" you ask, turning on your side so you can see her more clearly, without craning your neck. You run a hand through her hair, which feels, as usual, like silk. Gently, you take out her headband, which she has fulfilled in her promise to wear brighter colors of. "Do you fear it?"

"Since engaging thanatopsis more intentionally as of late, I have become more contemplative overall," she replied, turning ever so slightly in your direction and closing her eyes in consideration. "It is knowing what the future holds that frightens me. Not my future, but yours. A touch of weltschmerz, that is all. I am not nyctophobic."

"I've always admired your selflessness," you say, smiling. "And bravery."

"John, this condition of mine has rankled me for many years now," she said, pulling the sheets up again. "I've developed an immunity of sorts to it. I will not let it beat or scare me."

"What are you going to do?" you ask, drawing her in closer. Her skin was cool; you have always called her your personal air conditioner, albeit a bit ironically.

"Nothing," she replied simply. "It is metempirical. I will do my best to prolong it, but we have already discussed what shall be done."

"I'm just sorry I can't do more," you say. "I admit, I am a little scared myself."

"John, you are no milquetoast," she replied, smiling and chuckling lightly. You aren't sure what that means, but you hope it was a compliment. She tilted her head to one side with a faint glimmer in her eyes and she knows she has overestimated your intelligence once again. "You are the bravest and goofiest person I know. I have an almost unnatural appetence for you, my dear."

You laugh and take her face in your hands, kissing her on the lips. Little did you know, the next few years would bring on more episodes just like this. You would come home to find Rose curled up in a corner or on the bed, and you would spend countless hours just sitting with her tightly wound in your arms in an embrace. Other times, she would start to speak gibberish (Eldritch, she called it) without realizing it until she saw your confused expression. She would always eventually come through. Always.

Until one day, you woke up and she was not in bed with you. Instead, in her place, was a written note in her familiar, perfect lavender cursive. It was the final farewell.

Both you and she had no family, having lost your father and her mother during the Sburb session. There was no one to share your pain, your suffering. No one to notice that Rose had disappeared. So you held on to that grief by yourself. You fulfilled your promise and moved on, but never forgetting. How could you possibly forget? If you love something, you never forget.

"And that's that," you say, turning to Dave. He's staring down at the black and white keys, not really knowing where else to look. Slowly and awkwardly, he places a hand on your shoulder.

"Shit, man, I'm sorry," he says, unable to meet your gaze. You suppose that is a good thing, because you don't think you could have held his anyway.

"No, it's okay," you say, resting your elbow on the piano and your chin in your palm. "I knew what I was getting myself into. She didn't want to get married, because she didn't want me to end up alone. She knew the grimdarkness was going to get her one day. We just didn't know it would be so soon. But I was persistent and wouldn't accept no for an answer."

"You must have loved her a lot, huh?" asks Dave, breathing out slowly.

"I still do," you say. He looks away slightly, and you think you might have said something wrong, but you decide to keep quiet. You don't want to accidentally say anything else that may hurt him.

"Egbert," he says after a bit of contemplation. He turns to you with a serious look on his face. "I need to tell you something too."


	10. Chapter 10

Musickind

A Homestuck Fanfiction

DaveJohn / JohnDave

Chapter Ten

You are Dave Strider and you have come home from an almost 12 hour shift at work today, and you are pooped the fuck out.

"Dave! You're hooooome!" a cheery voice calls out from behind you. Before you could turn around, your fiancée, Jade Harley-Soon-To-Be-Strider, wraps her arms around you from behind.

"Woah, Jade!" you shout, almost hitting your head against the wall. She releases her grip just enough so that you can turn around and give her a quick kiss of the forehead and a pat on the head. "You're home early today."

"Hehe! Well you're home late!" She lets go and gives you one of her (dare you say it?) adorable pouts and puts her hands on her hips. "I came home early to spend time with you! But you ended up coming home later than expected…"

"Sorry," you reply, setting down your belongings on the table. "Did you already eat? It's already pretty late."

"Yeah, I got kinda hungry," Jade replies, looking away, embarrassed. "Sorry I didn't wait for you!"

"Nah, it's fine," you pat her stomach playfully. Being with Jade has made you a bit goofy, but only when you're with her. You're your usual cool self when you're in public. "I already ate on the way home."

"Dave!" she gasps, punching you playfully on the shoulder, trying her best to give you her angriest look. Try as she might, she can hardly look angry. In fact, she looks so much like a constipated blowfish that you can't help but to chuckle. "Don't tell me you ate fast food again!"

"Of course not," you reply, scoffing and flipping your imaginary long hair. "They took forever getting my food to me! They should rename it to slow food."

"I can't believe you, Dave," she sighs, walking away into the kitchen. "I thought you said you'd start eating healthier! I know we can't afford fancy meals, but at least get a salad or something."

"I can't help it; they have free meals for employees," you say, shrugging and crashing on the couch. You're so tired that you forget to take off your shades. You always instinctively put them on, no matter what. They're not for ironic purposes anymore, but for prescriptive purposes. Your slick shades are now prescribed for your eyes, which have been slowly going bad, for reasons unknown. But you haven't mentioned that to anyone, not even Jade. You figured there would be a good time to tell her. Just not now. She doesn't need the extra stress; you got this.

"I'm going to start making your meals from now on," she says from the kitchen. You just wave from the couch, hoping she'd see.

"If you want me to die, sure," you reply. No way in hell were you ever going to eat Jade's cooking ever again. You don't know how the hell she survived on an island eating that shit. She told you that she thought it was just fine and, get this, delicious, but you knew better. You actually ate _human_ food.

"Daaaave!" she whines, coming over to the couch and sitting on the edge. You scoot over enough for her to lie down, which she does. The two of you wrap your arms around each other and she places her head in your chest. "We haven't died yet."

"Yeah, but how many times have we gotten sick?" you retort, rolling your eyes. She squeezes you a little harder.

"Gosh, Dave! You don't even know it's because of my cooking!" Jade gives you a squeak and a _humph!_ and buries her face deeper into your shirt.

"Moving on," you suggest. "How was work for you today?"

"Ummm," she hesitates, trying to think of an answer. "The usual. No progress whatsoever. But then again, there isn't much I can do when I'm researching plants all the time. It's so exciting, watching grass grow."

"I should try it sometime," you smile and give her a nudge, perhaps a little too aggressively, as she almost falls off the couch.

So the two of you lie there, just enjoying your free time and each others' presence, freeing yourselves of the stress you've been having recently. It was good to get some time to relax and just hang with Jade. You've been so busy working lately that you've hardly had time to see her. Sometimes, she even slept at the lab, but she always called in the middle of the night to let you know she was still alive and not blown up or eaten by any mutant plants.

"I think I'll go take a shower now and get ready for bed," you suggest, patting Jade lightly on the head to let her know you're getting up. The two of you are sitting upright when she suddenly stops you.

"Dave," she says, looking down at the ground. "There's… something I've been meaning to tell you for a while now. I've been a bit too scared to, but I think you should know now."

You're looking at her seriously now. She hasn't been this serious since you asked her to move in with you, and to be honest, it's scaring you a bit. You guys haven't…. _done it_, so she couldn't possibly be pregnant or anything! She took a deep breath.

"I've been lying for a while now," she started. "I don't actually research plants. I am actually part of a team that has been researching a way to travel to the trolls' universe. And my salary isn't as low as I said it was. I actually… make a lot more than that, but I've been using it to fund my research project. I'm so sorry, Dave."

Silence. You're so stunned by this surprising news that you're speechless. Your thoughts aren't even coherent. Jade squirms a little in her seat; the silence was indeed pretty aggravating.

"So, you've lied to me all these years, and you've basically been taking all the money you've earned," you say, slowly and deliberately, piecing the information together. "And poured the majority of it into finding a way into the trolls' universe? Are you fucking kidding me, Jade?"

"I've meant to tell you all this time," she says, voice wavering. She turns to you, and you can see that her lips are quivering and her eyes are shiny and glazed. "I knew you'd act this way, which was why I didn't want to!"

"I wouldn't be acting this way if you had only told me sooner!" You're practically shouting at the top of your lungs now, and you hate it. You hate arguing with Jade, because she is the nicest and sweetest girl and you love her so much. You just love her so much. But this was too much. Way too much to handle. You've worked your ass off all these years, and she had lied about her salary AND research. "Why, Jade? Why did you lie about your research?"

"I…" she hesitates, looking away and hooking her fingers together. She always fidgets when she's hiding something. But what?

"No," you say in disbelief, throwing your hands up in the air, making her flinch. "No, don't tell me. Don't fucking tell me that all this was so that you could meet Karkat again."

"Dave." There she goes again, shoulders hunched. Saying your name like a broken record. How ironic is that?

"Dave!" Jade was pleading you to stop, tears starting to form in her eyes. "I'm sorry! I know I shouldn't have lied. This isn't just about Karkat! It's about building a bridge from our world to theirs. I just-… Don't YOU want to see them again too?"

"No, Jade," you stop her before she could say anymore, holding a hand up. "Don't give me any of that for-the-greater-good bullshit. I've moved on. If anything, they've moved on too. We already decided that we don't want anything to do with each other anymore. And if you're talking about Terezi, nothing happened between the two of us. Nothing. Even if anything did, I would be past that by now. Because I have you, and you have me. At least, I thought I did. I guess I'm not good enough for you anymore."

You couldn't help it anymore. You turn away, unable to meet her gaze anymore. You want to stop saying these horrible things to her, but you can't stop. You don't want to stop.

"Jade," you say, barely able to control your voice. You're not showing weakness now. Not now. "Just get your things and get out. I can't work this hard for the both of us if you obviously don't want to do the same."

"Dave!" She's sobbing now. She's sobbing and your heart is breaking. This is so unbelievably cliché and unironic. Your heart is breaking into a million pieces. You hate yourself for yelling at her. You hate her for lying to you. You hate yourself for kicking her out. You hate her for choosing a troll over you.

So you storm out. You hear her calling for you, but you slam the door shut.

You basically slam the door on the best thing that had ever happened to you in a long time. Now, you've lost that forever. You're pretty sure you would never forgive her.

So you start hating her. It was hard at first, but you convinced yourself she deserved it. You convinced yourself that you were right in what you did. She had loved you, but she had also loved Karkat at the same time. You hated her for a long time.

But then you started to regret that hate. You started to regret kicking her out. You couldn't accept the fact that she was basically gone forever. So you tried to find her, but her team had been good in keeping their research top secret, which explained why there was never any mention of it in the newspapers. Otherwise, that fight might have happened long before, but the outcome may have been a little different.

Then you realize, it probably wouldn't have been any different. You probably would still have lost your cool. You still would have stormed out on her. You still would have kicked her out. You would still be living that day over and over in your head. Just like a broken record.

And then you'd be lonely again. All by yourself.

And now you're suffering all by yourself, living day after day, living paycheck by paycheck. You're all alone. You're not important anymore.

But then something happened a few weeks ago that sparked something inside of you. You were reintroduced to music. You gained a friend. You gained a new light in your life. Someone had given you the breath of life again.

And he's sitting right next to you. You're starting to become overwhelmed with all these feelings. Feelings you haven't felt in a very, very long time. Feelings that you're confused about. Feelings that have plagued you for the past few weeks.

But you can't figure out what they are, and you're not entirely sure you want to. Because you don't want to be hurt again. You don't want to lose someone else again. You don't want to be lonely again. You want to be important. And you want that so much.

"Dave," he says, placing his hand over yours. Gripping it. "Thank you."

"What the hell for?" you laugh dryly. "I'm so glad my pain and suffering has brought you so much joy."

"No, silly!" he says, laughing too. "For sharing this with me. I'll always be here for you, Dave. Always and forever."

Something pulls at your heart and makes it ache. You look away, feeling the ironic tears about to spill.

"God damn it, Egbert, I'm allergic to mush," you say, sniffing dramatically, trying to hide your tears. But it's not working, and you both know it.

And the two of you just sit there for the rest of the night, reflecting on what just passed between the two of you. Time passed by quickly. Much too quick for your liking.

When you wake up, you're admittedly glad to see Egbert's face again. He was still asleep, snoozing peacefully. Your neck hurts from lying on the piano, but you're praying that time would just slow down again. Slow down enough for you to see Egbert's face. You want to memorize that face. The face of your savior.

You want to remember, before the time comes when you will never be able to see that face ever again.


	11. Chapter 11

Musickind

A Homestuck Fanfiction

DaveJohn / JohnDave

Chapter Eleven

[A/N: Special thanks to CurlyMustache for being a pain in the butt, hehe! Thanks for making me waste all that time reading all your reviews (jkilu)!]

You are John Egbert and your back and neck are sore from sleeping hunched over on your piano. That was a pretty bad idea, you two should have at least moved over to the living room and slept on the couch or something! But you two were pretty tired and had just poured out your feelings onto each other like teenage girls talking about their love lives. Before Dave had passed out, he mumbled something about the moment being just like one of his bro's shoujo mangas. You were trying to sneak out of the room, but Dave woke up just as you were tiptoeing away and called out for you.

"You forget I was raised by a ninja slash samurai brother," he remarks, rubbing his eyes from under his shades and stretching his shoulders. "My sicknasty senses are heightened to an extreme."

"Sorry, Dave!" you say, raising your arms in a shrug. "I was just going to take a shower."

"Cool, I'll take one with you," he says, smirking and heading over. You slap him on the shoulder playfully, but you're still embarrassed.

"N-no way, Dave!" you reply, pretty sure you're making weird faces, because his smirk's getting smirkier. "Wait your turn, gosh!"

"Why? It's not like you haven't seen a dick before," he says, shrugging and stretching his arms and neck again.

"It's not because of that, you dummy!" and you storm out before he could say anymore, head into the bathroom, and lock the door so he couldn't get in. Gosh, what is that guy's problem? You laugh it off. Silly Dave and his pervy comments. You strip and take a nice, warm shower, thinking it's a nice way to help your stiff neck. From outside, Dave calls out to you.

"Are you going back to work today?" he asks, voice a bit muffled. You take a moment to try to recall what day it is.

"Yeah, I think I'll be coming back late tonight," you reply, applying soap and shampoo. "My manager's gonna have a fit since I took an extra day off."

"Alright, I guess I'll head off to work then," Dave replies, his voice trailing a bit. "I'll head out now and see you later tonight then. Don't miss me too much, babe."

"Okay! Bye, sweety!" you tease back. You hope this wasn't going to become some sort of daily ritual, but it was nice to have someone to talk to now, even if only for a little during the day.

You finish showering and grab a towel to dry off, but realize you hadn't taken any clothes with you to change into. You didn't want to put on your old dirty clothes again, so you decide to dash out to get some new ones to change into. You're walking around naked, but you're not embarrassed or anything, because this is your house! You always walk around naked! You guess you should stop, since Dave has moved in, but you think it's okay for now. Besides, Dave was gone already!

So you get a fresh set of clothes from your bedroom. You're walking back to your bathroom when you hear a click from the door. Oh, crap. The handle turns. Oh, shit. The door opens. Oh, fuck. Dave's back unexpectedly and you're naked.

"Hey, Egbert! Sorry, I forgot my wall-" he stops shouting mid-sentence when he notices you sneaking across the room naked.

"AUGH!" You throw your clothes at him without thinking and run away in utter embarrassment. You cannot believe that just happened. He's seen you naked, and you're now flipping your shit for the millionth time. You run back into the bathroom, and proceed to slap yourself for being so stupid. You threw your clothes at him! NOW how are you supposed to get dressed? You're too mortified to even go outside, even if Dave left. You slide down to the floor, wishing for a quick and painless death.

"Egbert," comes Dave's voice from the other side of the door. Ohhhhhh, why did he come over! "Um... Here are your clothes… I guess. I'll just leave them here. On the ground. Outside." You guess he's just as embarrassed as you! And you have to admit that although you couldn't see his face, it was kind of… _cute_ to hear him embarrassed. Wait, did you just think that?

"And if it's any consolation to you," he ventures. "You're a good size."

"What…" You're pretty much speechless. He saw you. That's it. You're dead. You're going to kill yourself.

"But I'm bigger," he taunts and you can hear him turn away on his heels and walk away, laughing out loud. You're pretty god damn sure he has the stupidest smirk on his face.

That's it. No more walking around naked for the rest of your life, even if Dave moves out. You grab your clothes quickly and change into them in a mad flurry.

Several days pass by without any mention of the incident, but you're sure both of you are scarred for life. New Year's Day approaches quickly, since you're enjoying your time with Dave. It's a shame that time really does happen to fly by quickly when you're having fun. You're glad New Year's Eve and New Year's Day fall on a weekend this year, meaning Dave didn't have to go to work. The two of you plan out a nice dinner at home and you go out to buy champagne and beer to celebrate.

That night, the dinner was deemed delicious and you're now both watching the news and waiting for the ball to drop in New York. The news reporter makes a comment to find a partner to kiss quickly, since midnight was drawing close.

"Are you going to kiss me?" Dave teases, nudging you in the arm.

"Gross, I don't want to get cooties," you reply, sticking your tongue out at him. He chuckles and sips on some beer. He's been making a lot of sexual jokes lately, and you've learned to ignore them or go along with him. It doesn't bother you as much now, since the two of you are just close friends anyway!

"Why not? I'm a great kisser," he counters, turning to you. "Look, I'll prove it." He leans in and purses his lips, ready for a kiss.

"Ew, gross!" you laugh, pushing him away. "You're so totally drunk right now!" The two of you playfully wrestle together. You've managed to set down your glass of champagne, and he his bottle of beer, ready to fight. Dave is a bit stronger than you, so he manages to pin you on your back and is on top of you. Non-suggestively, of course.

Due to gravity, however, Dave's sunglasses fall off his face and fumble onto the ground. He stops and stares at you with a bit of a shocked expression, and you realize that this is the first time you've ever seen his eyes. They're a bright red, and you had to admit, that although strange, they were really… attractive? He reaches over and searches around for them. You're wondering why he's taking so long to find them. You look over and his hand is hardly close to where they landed. It's almost as if he couldn't…

"Dave, can you see?" you ask, raising your eyebrows. He stops grabbing around for them and looks away, sitting down on the couch instead of leaning over you. No reply whatsoever. "Dave?"

You reach over and grab his sunglasses. He reaches for them, but he's so far off that you pull away.

"Dave, how many fingers am I holding up?" you ask, but he's not looking. He just looks away with an anguished look on his face. You're starting to lose patience. "Dave, answer me."

"Egbert," he says, hesitantly. You give him a few moments to recuperate. He braves a glance at you and sees you're not going to give in until he gives you an answer. On the TV, the reporter announces that the year is drawing nearer to the closing. Although you'd rather not end the year like this, you want answers. Dave finally sighs. "Alright. Yeah, I can't see. Well, I can, but barely. My sight has been getting worse every year, and the doctors say it's called flash blindness. Before our split, I talked to Rose about it and she thought that it might be because we witnessed the creation of the Green Sun. It's like looking at the sun for too long, you know?"

"What about Rose? She was fine," you interject. He's being totally serious now. You know, because he isn't even cussing or making jokes. He just simply shrugs.

"We thought it may be because she was the Seer of Light," he purses his lips again. "So she could withstand the light and explosion from the Green Sun. Those shades are prescription. That's why they're kinda thick."

You check them out, and it's true. The lenses are super thick, and you guess that he's really blind! Maybe even more so than you, and that's saying something. The two of you are silent, and you guess that's all he's going to tell you. You scoot over and sit nearer to him, handing him his sunglasses, but he just holds them, not putting them on.

"From now on," you say, turning to him. "No more secrets, okay?" He turns to you too, and you wonder if he can see you clearly, since you're so close to him.

"No more secrets," he promises, nodding and smiling. And right then, you remember the time you and Rose talked about her situation. You remember how the two of you promised that there would be no secrets kept hidden between the two of you. You remember how much you cared for her. You remember how you loved her.

And you realize that you're feeling the same way right now. Those feelings have returned. The feelings you thought you'd never be able to feel ever again.

You also realize that these feelings have been building up these past couple of weeks. You've been ignoring them. You've been making excuses. You've been denying them.

Because you don't want to be hurt again. You don't want to lose someone else again. You don't want to be lonely again. You want to be with Dave for the rest of your life. And you want that so much.

In the background, the countdown has already begun. There are seconds left. Then…

5… 4… 3… 2… 1…

And you kiss him. You don't know what the fuck you're doing, but you kiss him, and he doesn't pull away. You kissed him so suddenly, you aren't even forming words in the mind. But then, you pull away, breathless. Breathless. Isn't that… ironic?

"Happy New Year, Dave," you manage to say, barely able to even think. You hope you haven't just totally fucked shit up. Dave's just staring at you, lips slightly parted. You almost get off to run back to the bathroom, embarrassed again, but he finally smiles.

"Happy New Year, John."


	12. Chapter 12

Musickind

A Homestuck Fanfiction

DaveJohn / JohnDave

Chapter Twelve

You are Dave Strider and you just woke up from the weirdest dream you've ever had. You dreamt that it was New Year's Eve, and Egbert found out you're going blind, and he kissed you, and oh god wait what is he doing sleeping next to you on the couch? There he is. Just snoozin' on your chest. It's a god damn miracle you didn't accidentally push him off in the middle of the night.

You hope he's a heavy sleeper, because you really need to take a piss, and you'd hate for him to wake up, so you gently pick up his arm by his wrist, which was laying on your chest, and carefully move it out of the way. Phew, lucky you! Egbert really _is_ a heavy sleeper; you slowly move off of the bed and make a break for the bathroom, the first place in the entire house you made a point to memorize its location.

You finish your business a flash and wash up, preparing to go to work. There's a calendar in Egbert's bathroom, so you take a quick glance at it and- Oh! You're so stupid, today's New Years! You don't have to work! Well, you could have, but you thought it'd be nice to take a day off and spend some time with Egbert. You're sure he wasn't going to be too busy today. At least, you hope not.

You make your way back to your room to change and think about making dinner for Egbert. That is, if you could cook. It's nice to fantasize, though. You just finish taking off your shirt when you hear a squeak from behind, turning to see Egbert at the door, whose hair is in a mess and wearing a surprised expression on his face.

"Oh, gosh!" he exclaims, moving away from the door, embarrassed at being caught. "I didn't know you were changing."

"It's cool," you say, shrugging and digging through your drawer for a new outfit. "I'm not a lady, John." He smiles at you.

"You've been calling me 'John'!" he grins and laughs sheepishly. "It's a nice change! But I'm still trying to get used to it."

"Um," you hesitate, not really knowing what to say. You thought that since he took your relationship up a whole different level, you'd accommodate the change in same sort of way. You didn't actually think he'd notice. "If you want, I'll call you Egbert again."

"Call me whatever you want, Dave!" he laughs and dismisses the though with a wave of his hand from outside the door. "Gosh, you don't need my permission."

"Okay, honey," you tease, smirking and finding a shirt and belt.

"Anyway, your lack of a shirt and common decency isn't what I was gasping at!" he elaborates, pursing his lips in slightly the same manner you do, and putting his hands on his hips.

"Why not? I've got a rockin' body. Bitches be linin' up to lay their pinkies on this fine ass body." You rub a hand seductively over your stomach, but John only snorts. "Also, what are you going on about common decency? You were the one running around naked a few days ago."

"I thought we were passed that," he answers, slightly perturbed, narrowing his eyes into a glares. "Anyway! I was talking about your tattoo, Dave!"

"Oh, that thing?" You instinctively reach over your shoulder. You had a pair of asymmetrical orange wings tattooed on your back a few years back. "In memory of our chill bro, Davesprite."

"I figured," he says, beaming. "I've always liked him. He was… cool!"

"He's me…" you remark, pursing your lips again. John just smiles guiltily and bolts. You sigh and finish dressing, and by the time you're out, John's already rifling through today's paper, muttering something about a lack of sales.

"So, what are the plans for today, sweetpea?" you ask in what you perceive to be a sickeningly sweet voice. He raises an eyebrow, looking over his paper.

"Are we being serious about the pet names?" he asks, blinking slowly.

"Are we being serious about _this_?" you counter. He takes in a deep breath, raising both eyebrows, caught off guard. "Anyway, I thought you weren't a homosexual. You made that pretty clear when we were kids."

"Well," he starts, voice wavering a bit, looking off to the side. "I never said I wasn't a bisexual." He seemed pleased with that answer, and you are too. You're actually pretty surprised you both are handling this so well. After all, you never really thought about other men this way. Then again, you had only felt romantic feelings for Jade, and possibly Terezi, so you are, in a sense, inexperienced at this kind of stuff.

As sappy as it may sound, being with him made you feel good. He was always your best friend, but he's more than that now. You try leaning in for a kiss, but John is so surprised that he reflexively covers his lips with the newspaper and you end up kissing the paper, bumping glasses with him in the process.

"Oops," he says, laughing it off. "Sorry, Dave! Um, I haven't done this in a while, so I'm a little… embarrassed…" This time, he's the one to lean in, giving you a quick peck on the lips as a sign of apology for cutting you off unexpectedly. He holds up the newspaper to shield his face in embarrassment, and you guess the two of you are going to need some time to adjust to… this.

"Anyway! There are no plans for today!" he exclaims from behind the paper, desperately trying to change the subject. "It's New Year's, so most of the shops aren't open! Plus, it's a Sunday, so lots of people are in church at this time." He trails off and you mumble something incoherent in reply to let him know you're still paying attention.

"How about a picnic?" he suggests, putting down the paper and looking at you expectantly. He's got those puppy dog eyes, a sign that he wasn't going to take no for an answer anyway, even though he asked. You weren't big on picnics, but why not? There wasn't anything else to do anyway. You tell him yeah, and he darts over to his garage to find a basket.

So you help him pack a simple picnic brunch: sandwiches, soda, cookies, all the good stuff, obviously. John says there's a park a few blocks down, so the two of you could walk and he could save gas. The walk over was cut short by John's gossip of fellow coworkers at the concert hall.

When you're there, you're surprised to find that the park isn't all that crowded. But then again, it _was_ pretty hot out, so you expect most people would want to stay inside. But who needs an air conditioner when you've got the motherfuckin' Heir of Breath with you? He's your own personal air conditioner. His skin is always so cool… Not that you'd know, of course…!

With that thought brushed aside, you find a nice spot to sit in and lay the blanket across. The two of you sit and remove the contents of the basket. The two of you enjoy your brunch, with John fretting over ants and you telling him to stop being such a little girl. After the two of you are done, he scoots in closer to you and leans on your shoulder. He turns to face you.

"Dave? There's stuff on your face." He leans in to take a closer look, but you're already covering your face with the back of your hands. "Wait, are those… freckles?"

Crap, you forgot about them! Whenever you're in the sun for too long, your freckles, usually very light and invisible, become much more prominent.

"No!" you say, perhaps a bit too quickly. You're actually very self-conscious about them! Bro once told you that they were uncool, although he had some himself. John flinches, but after a moment, he bursts out laughing.

"Dave," he protests, grabbing your wrist. "They look nice! Let me see!"

You struggle to resist, but John is miraculously able to remove your hands from your face, toppling you over in the process. You're lying on your back with him on top of you, and he has a bit of a surprised look on his face, being in an unexpected position. You're not sure, but you might be blushing; your face is getting hot, but it may be because of that damned sun for all you know. You hope it's the latter. John removes your shades with one hand and your vision blurs momentarily until you're able to focus on his face. He was close enough so that the edges of his face were vivid and sharp.

"Your freckles are cute, Dave!" He comments, grinning and revealing his overbite and buck teeth. You always thought his teeth were a bit goofy. Actually, they still are. John's face softens into a gentle expression when he mutters something else. "And your lashes are long too."

With that, he leans in for another kiss. This is the third kiss. Fourth, if you count that pseudo kiss behind the newspaper earlier in the morning. But you're not keeping track or anything! That'd be stupid. However, you're a bit embarrassed that he's kissing you in public, but you get so caught up in the moment that you eventually ignore it. You kiss him back. He pulls away and smiles. Without thinking, you reach up and take off his glasses.

"Dave, I can't see!" He attempts to reach out for them, but you pull your arm away.

"Are you near-sighted?" you ask. He cocks his head to one side and confirms that he is. "Good. All you need to see is me."

And you lean up for another kiss.

"Dave! Guess what?" John has just burst through the door after a long day from work while you were in the middle of a treasure hunt (toilet paper being the gold). It's pretty late, which is saying something, since your last shift was way past dinner time. Luckily for you, your wife-I-mean-boyfriend took the liberty of preparing you a sandwich (haha) earlier in the morning.

"Another surprise?" you ask, searching the closet. He bounces up to you expectantly.

"Yes! Since you've been playing around with the turntables again, I thought it'd be nice for us to put on a little show together!" You stop reaching around.

"What?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, I should have asked first! Um, it's okay if you don't want to do it! I can cancel if you wa-" You hold your hand up, stopping him mid-sentence.

"No, that's actually really… awesome," you manage. "A show at your hall?"

"Yeah! I talked to my manager about it, and she said that it's a really cool idea, and it may draw in some younger kids." John grins and plants his hands on his hips in triumph. He probably thought of the idea all on his own. "Do you want to do it? You'll have plenty of time to practice! And, of course, part of the money we get from the ticket sales will be split for you, since I'm already paid by contract."

Sure, it sounds like a really great idea, but you're not exactly sure you're up for it. You mean, you're already pretty awesome at producing sick beats, but you've always done it in the comfort of your own room, or a small crowd at clubs. Never for a large crowd such as a concert hall. But there John goes again, making those puppy dog eyes at you. You try looking away, but he only moves into your direct line of vision, still pouting.

"Alright, fine," you sigh, and he whoops and throws his arms around you. "But only because I'm getting paid!"

After John's finished thanking you and calling his manager, he gets dinner ready. After the two of you are done and settled on the couch to watch TV, he scoots in closer to you and leans on your shoulder, putting a hand on your lap.

"Wow, Dave, you're pretty in shape! Your legs are pretty rock solid." You can't help but to burst out laughing, since that was _such_ an awkward comment. You're glad the two of you aren't in public. He blushes instantly. "I… I'm not that out of shape, am I?"

"Oh, shit, no that's not I was laughing about!" you manage to say in between laughs. "You are not out of shape! Are you telling me I have shitty taste in men?" You poke him in the stomach, causing him to jump and squeal in surprise. Oh, no fucking way. He's ticklish! So you proceed to poke and tickle him and he's trashing about madly, possibly on the verge of suffocating due to laughter. You're about to stop when he accidentally knees you in the nether regions. You make a sound akin to that of a dying, suffocating goat and topple of the couch, embarrassingly in the fetal position.

"Oh, jegus fuck!" you moan as he scrambles off the couch.

"OH SHIT DAVE I'M SO SORRY!" He's practically screaming in your ears. You want to reach out and pat him on the shoulder, but you're close to blacking out… okay, no, that was an exaggeration but holy shit, it hurt like fuck! You now know how he was able to survive Sburb for as long as he did.

"I'll be okay in a few minutes," you inform, although your hunched position wasn't exactly a good indicator of that.

"NOW IS NOT THE TIME TO BE IRONIC." He screams. Except you weren't, and you guess he isn't thinking straight either.

The rest of the night was spent with you watching TV with an ice pack settled nicely on top of your crotch. What a romantic evening.

And so Sunday rolls along fairly slowly, because you spent much of the week agonizing over the whole ordeal and practicing a few songs with John. You try to blow it off by telling him that you're pretty much awesome and don't need him worrying, but he sees straight through your calm and collected act and knows you're actually the one that's shitting his pants over this whole thing. He assures you that you're the shit and you tell him that you're just plain shit.

Oh, and did you mention this fancy tux that John got you? It is nice and red and it is THE SHIT. Seriously, you cannot get enough of red. You teased John once about being the big bad wolf and how he should resist the growing temptation to eat him up, if he knew what you meant (eyebrow wiggle). Which he didn't, sadly.

And then the event is drawing hours near and the two of you are already at the concert hall. You're fidgeting over your tie and how tight your shirt is and oh my god your fingers are going numb. John literally slaps some sense into you via your face and tells you to calm your nuts because it's almost time to go on.

John's manager knocks and you nearly jump out of your chair. You swear, you're probably sweating through your suit. You think you saw someone do that once on TV, and it was super embarrassing. You ask John to check your pits, but he just rolls his eyes and walks away.

So you do a pep talk with yourself. Stop this, you tell yourself. You're Dave Strider. David Motherfucking Strider. You got this. You adjust your shades and flash yourself pistols in the mirror. You're cool. You're cool. Totally.

However, when you are about to walk through the curtains, you almost turn around and walk back. John probably saw this coming because he places a hand on your shoulder. And grips tightly. The MC makes the announcement and the audience applauds. Well, there's no turning back now.

The first song starts off with a quick melody from John, to which you're supposed to join in. You think you're sweating bullets, but you hope not, because that would be uncool. AND you don't want to let John down! But mostly because you don't want to look uncool.

Luckily for the both of you, you two have practiced every song at least a million times, and you come in with your sicknasty beats, and the crowd suddenly goes crazy. Everyone starts oohing and awing, which soon swells up into an applause. And you have to admit, it made you feel good. No, not just good. It made you feel like a motherfucking pimpalicious (what the fuck is that) superstar.

The song is over and the two of you have them eating right out of the palms of your hands. You smile. An actual, genuine smile. You look over at John, who's bowing, and follow suit. He flashes you a thumbs up and you return the gesture.

The next few songs pass by much quicker and with less stress, now that you've grown accustomed to the crowd. After all, you're back to doing what you love and glad that you're able to, in a sense, show it off for others to see and hear. You aren't just so nobody DJ wannabe anymore.

The last song finally comes up, and this is YOUR song. Well, most of it is. You have a big, rockin' solo that John's supposed to follow up, and it's been tricky getting the timing just right, but the two of you are sure you'll be able to sync up. He was sure the two of you would be in perfect harmony.

So your solo comes up and you're jammin' and pulling all the punches. You have to admit, you are a motherfucking genius. You aren't sure how you managed to think of these beats within a few weeks.

Cue dramatic pause. This is it. You were supposed to wait 8 seconds. No more. No less. And you do it, and it you are perfect. Except for one thing.

John is not. He is 2 seconds too late, which is TOO long. The two of you are totally out of sync, and it's sounding horrible. Absolutely horrible, and the crowd knows it. There's muttering. There's gossip.

You look over and John has a worried expression plastered all over his face. He is visibly sweating and shaking. Then, without warning, he stops and has his hands on his ears. Something is definitely wrong now. You stop and kind of stare, not really knowing what to do.

Until he yells and pushes back his chair, crumpling to the ground. That's when you run to him. That's when you put your arms around him. That's when you call out his name over and over, only to have him keep yelling and yelling. And you just feel so goddamn pathetic and useless for not being able to do anything while he is writhing in pain.

"John! John, what's wrong?" you shout, hands gripping his shoulders, ignoring the increasing murmurs from the crowd.

"Everything is so… loud," he manages to whisper, before finally passing out.


	13. Chapter 13

"English, doc." A garbled, yet familiar voice cuts through the silence.

You are John Egbert.

"Mr. Egbert has Ménière's disease," another voice says, equally fuzzy.

You were just playing the piano.

"It means that his hearing is getting worse, possibly becoming permanent in due time."

So why are you lying on your back?

"But he's a musician, he _can't_ be deaf!" That's Dave's voice. You eyes flutter open slowly, but you flinch from the brightness. You are suddenly aware of the faint ringing in your ears.

"I'm sorry, but there's nothing I can do about it. A long time ago, he declared that he does not want to fix his situation. Besides, there is no definitive way to treat it. It may even disappear on its own." You finally place the voice: your old doctor.

"Not with his luck," Dave's voice is laced with anxiety and frustration. They turn to you and are surprised to see you conscious. Dave immediately bends down and grabs your hand. "John! You fucking idiot, why didn't you tell me about this! You promised me, no more secrets!"

You try your best to smile, but your heart aches. He was right. There shouldn't have been any more secrets between the two of you. And you don't want to admit it, but you can hardly hear him in your condition.

"The same reason you didn't tell me about yours," you say. His eyebrows knit into a deeper furrow and his frown is even more prominent. You look up to your doctor. "Thanks, doctor. I'll be fine. Send me the bill later."

Your doctor nods and heads out, and then it's just the two of you in heavy silence. He's still staring at you through those sunglasses, and it's obvious he desperately wants to know, but doesn't pry. You decide he deserves to know. After all, he told you about his condition. It's only fair.

"After we finished Sburb and returned to our 'normal' lives, for some reason, I developed tinnitus. To this day, I still haven't the faintest idea how. Like you said, it's just my luck. One day, out of the blue, there was a loud ringing sound. So loud, my head was throbbing. I went to get it checked out and it was Ménière's disease. It means I have hearing loss from time to time, and it may become permanent soon. Yeah, I know. Just my luck. Anyway, it comes and goes sporadically, and each time, my hearing gets slightly worse. So I never know when it's going to happen. Although, it hadn't happened for quite a while, so I foolishly thought it might have gone away."

Dave ducks his head and runs a hand through his hair, sighing loudly out of aggravation. "How long until you lose your hearing completely?"

"Maybe a couple of years?" You shrug lightly. "Oh! What happened about the concert?"

"Oh, yeah, your manager was worried and pissed. I'm guessing you didn't tell her about this, huh?" You shake your head in confirmation. "She says to give her a call when you're feeling better. Lucky for you the concert was almost over."

"Ugh! This is so embarrassing! Collapsing at the end of a concert like that... What are people going to think?" You place a hand over your eyes and you can feel your cheeks burning up. "This is not the type of publicity I wanted."

"Maybe they'll praise you for being so good with your hearing out so bad," he says, trying to help you see the brighter side of the situation, but you just sigh. "Anyway you just lay your ass down for a few days and I'll take real good care of you, Egderp."

"Dave, only my hearing is going out," you say, laughing. "I'm not sick! I'm fine." And to prove it, you get out of bed, but stumble slightly. You figure it must be that the fluid sloshing around in your ears hadn't had time to settle, causing you to lose your balance. Dave grabs you by the arm, but you shake him off gently, wanting to prove to him that you're fine.

The rest of the day goes by relatively slowly, as Dave has you cooped up in the house. You grant your manager's wish by giving her a call. She expresses her genuine worry, then after that's all done and over with, immediately scolds you for being so careless. She tells you that you'll be getting a senseless beating, although that may be no more than a rough noogie on the head. You're a bit disappointed when she says that she's already cancelled next week's performance, but you promise to rest up and get plenty of practice anyway.

Meanwhile, Dave has prepared dinner, carefully following the instructions on a box of mac and cheese to the very best of his abilities. When you comment on how much cheese he's added, he says it's probably because his vision is becoming a little blurry. You offer to give him a ride to the optometrist soon, but he waved off the offer, heavily implying that he'd probably die under the current circumstances.

Dinner finishes in a bit of an awkward silence and Dave cleans up, demanding you get ready for bed. Sensing his stubbornness, you oblige and get ready for bed. After your usual nightly routine, you're about to get into bed when Dave walks in, dressed down into a simple shirt and pants, which you realize to be his sleepwear.

"All tucked in, princess?" he teases. You wrinkle your nose, but you're glad he's back to cracking jokes. All that worrying was so out of character for him that you were starting to worry about HIM.

"Yes, _mother_, thank you for fussing over me the whole day, even though I said I was perfectly fine," you reply, pulling the covers over your chest.

"Woah, wait, what are you doing, scoot over, John," he says, suddenly pulling away the covers after you worked so hard to get comfortable.

"What?"

"There is no god damn way I'm letting you sleep alone after what happened yesterday," he says, pushing you over and crawling in. "What if you freak out in the middle of the night and I don't hear because I'm too busy dreaming about what a wonderful rapper slash DJ I am and all that crazy shit?"

"Oh my god, Dave," you say, rolling your eyes. "Is this your lame plan to finally get into bed with me?"

"What no why would you ever think that," he replies, turning to face the opposite side. "Dude, no, look. Here I am, sleeping away from you. My arms are totally off the edge of the bed, practically yelling at the monsters to eat them in the middle of the night. How could you think of me like that? After all this time, John."

You burst out laughing, and it's like nothing had ever changed between the two of you. However, there is one thing. You slip an arm over his waist and pull yourself close to his body. You feel the heat radiating from that slim figure. Your breath catches.

"So are we going to do it or what?" he asks.

You respond by slipping your hand under his shirt.


	14. Chapter 14

Alright, you had to admit that was pretty much the best night of your life. You're still grinning stupidly as you're walking to work, so you pull your scarf over face. Besides, it was getting cold.

John had put up a bit of a fit earlier this morning, wanting to cuddle a bit more. Obviously, you both knew who wore the pants in this relationship. You promised him you'd be home in time for dinner, so you put one of those microwavable mac and cheese bowls on the table for him for lunch.

"Hey, Strider, it's time for our lunch break," your coworker calls out from his cubicle. You thank him and sigh, taking off your headset. Helping ungrateful shitheads all day really takes a toll on you sometimes. Not that all their yelling gets to you. Nah, you've learned to ignore that shit. You just wished that you'd have done more with your life sometimes is all. You've got half an hour, so you head on over to the lunch room to heat up another mac and cheese bowl you stole from John's kitchen. While you're waiting for it to heat, you steal a quick glance around. No one's there, so you pick up the phone and dial John's number. It rings several times before he picks up.

"Hello?" You smile a bit at the familiar voice.

"Sup, it's me," you say, as if he could be expecting anyone else. "Obviously you can hear everything loud and clear now?"

"Dave! Yeah! Are you at work? No, wait, duh, of course you are," he says, and you can hear a dull thump. He probably just smacked his own forehead. "Are you on lunch break? I saw the mac and cheese, by the way. _Very_ romantic."

You manage a chuckle. "Yeah, just a few more hours and I'll be heading home. Just called to make sure you were still ok. Should probably get off before I get caught using the company's phone for a personal call."

"Haha alright, see ya later then, Mr. Rulebreaker!" And with that, you both hung up.

After eating your own mac and cheese, you lounge around a bit before heading back to work. Another few hours of taking calls pass by and you're totally beat and ready to go home. You wave to your fellow cubicle buddies and head out.

Just for kicks, you change up your route a bit. You pass by the club that John took you to a few weeks ago and just… stand there. They're not open yet, since it's way too early for clubbing, so you look sort of suspicious, but what do you care. No one's around to see you. At least, that's what you thought.

"Hey! Club's closed. Need something, bro?" a voice calls out from behind you, rudeness clear in his tone. As you turn, ready with a snarky remark, both of your expressions turn to surprise. "Dave? Dave Strider, that you, kid?"

"Hank?" you manage to say before the large African American pulls you into a bear hug.

"Shit, man, I haven't seen you since forever!" the other man lets go and pats you on the shoulders. "Where have you been all this time? Underground clubs or some shit? DJ Stri!"

"God, no, please not that name. That's fucking embarrassing," you're red in the face, but you're smiling. Ah, his younger days. "I'm just working now. But, yo Hank, don't tell me you own this club." He gives you a smile and a wink. "No _way_! When did you move here? What happened to the other club?"

"Sold that one when I moved here with the missus. Bought this one a few years back. You still DJing, dude?" You shake your head in reply. "Aww, what a damn shame! You were _sick_, I gotta tell you that."

"If I was so sick, why didn't you ever hire me, man?" you ask, smiling a bit sadly. Your tone wasn't at all accusatory.

"Listen, kid, the only reason I didn't hire you when you were a kid was cuz you were too full of yourself. You were great, you knew it, and you flaunted it. You had that 'I'm-so-cool-everyone-else-get-out' kind of vibe around you. I couldn't have that in my club." He says, and you appreciate his honesty. "But you know, kid, I can tell now that you've grown a LOT more mature."

You sort of just stare at him. No one had told him that he was mature. You admit, when you were a kid, you were pretty cocky with your whole coolkid/ironic spiel. However, you hadn't really noticed that you're not like that anymore. Well, you're still cool, but you hadn't noticed that you no longer flaunt it. You guess you have really matured after all. When you don't answer, Hank tries to break the silence.

"I see you're still doing the whole shades thing." He motions towards your sunglasses.

"Yeah, well, that's for different reasons now," you shrug, not really wanting to elaborate. Hank nods, not really wanting to pry.

"You still DJ, Strider?" he asks. You raise an eyebrow.

"Not really," you say, looking away slightly. "I've forgotten."

"Naw, man. You haven't forgotten. I knew you. You love the tables. And when you love something, you never forget it," he smiles at you, eyes twinkling. "A good friend of mine told me that."

Man, John's like a fucking ghost or some shit. He's everywhere! Infecting the minds of everyone. Slowly, but surely. You sigh.

"Yeah, but I don't have time any more. I'm working several jobs to pay the bills, you get me?" You put your hands in your pockets, shrugging. Hank studies you from head to toe and puts a hand on his chin. "What."

"Nothing," he says, still looking at you funny. "You know, if you'd like, I could get you a slot here. A favor for an old friend." You raise both your eyebrows this time, mouth a little open.

"Woah, wait, but I haven't practiced in a while.." he waves you off.

"Don't worry man, you still got it, trust me," he says. "When you were younger, you killed it with those fingers. The music you made? Brilliant, my friend. You don't need practice. Trust me. Come by later tonight. I was gonna DJ myself, since there's a slot open. But I'll let you take it. I've even got an older style turntable I could set up for you. I'll even pay you for the night's work."

At the mention of pay, your ears perk a little. Well, it couldn't hurt, right? What's the worst that could happen? A no-face DJ getting boo'd off the stage. It's not like he had a reputation to lose. Besides, he'd still get paid. Hank wouldn't go back on his word.

"Alright, I'll do it," you say, inclining your head a little. Hank is ecstatic, clapping you on the back and going off about how great it would be for the club while you're telling him not to get his hopes up. You two work out a time and say your goodbyes. You're about to leave when you suddenly remember something.

"Oh, yeah, hey, do you mind if I bring my friend John over too?" You turn to ask before you forget.

"Woah, wait. You wouldn't happen to mean John Egbert, would you?" Hank asks. You smirk.

"Would you rather I call him ET?" With that, Hank is between choking laughter and high-pitched spluttering. He's waving his hands around like a madman.

"Naw, man, NO. Don't TELL me you know ET! He's a legend around these parts! Without him, I wouldn't have gotten this club so big! He comes to DJ for free sometimes, isn't he just great?" Hank pulls you into another bear hug. You say yeah, sure, he's great, now let me go home to change and he lets you go.

On your way home, you're way more ecstatic then you let on. You're grinning stupidly again, so you pull the scarf around your face once more. You finally get home and John's sitting on the couch watching some sort of crime drama. His head pops up from behind the couch and his face lights up like fucking Christmas or some shit.

"Welcome home!" He gets up and strides over to you to give you a quick peck on the cheek. "Wow, that feels weird to do, haha!" The two of you head on over to the kitchen.

"You hungry?" you ask.

"Super hungry," he responds.

"Well, too bad, 'cause I'm taking you out tonight," you say, kissing him on the lips. He's surprised, just as you'd hoped.

"Woah, where to?" he asks. "Should I dress up?"

"More like you should dress down," you reply. "It's a surprise."

"Aw, man, don't tell me this is payback for all those surprises I took you on to last time?" John smiles his goofy smile and you can't help but to smile back.

"This is totally payback and I need time to prep so go get ready, ok?" He reluctantly agrees and slinks off. You rush over to his music studio and rifle through his CD collection. Please let there be some decent clubbing music in here. You pull several off the shelves and silently promise to help him put them back later. After spending a good deal of time choosing some familiar tunes, you return to your room to change into jeans and a t-shirt with a relatively cool design on it. Not that it matters, because you throw on a red jacket and check yourself in the mirror. Ok, you're still pretty cool-looking for a 25-year-old, not that that was too old.

By the time you get out, John's all ready in his own blue hoodie and grey jeans. It was just like old times, when they used to color coordinate with Rose and Jade. You've got the CDs in your pocket and you put an arm around him.

As the two of you are walking to the club, he's telling you about his day, how he spent most of it catching up on dramas and calling his manager. You tell him about a few of the callers you've gotten lately, and before you know it, you've reached the club. He gives you a curious look, but follows you in when the guard unlinks the chains for you, much to the protest of many in line.

The club is already jam-packed and you have to hold John's hand to snake through the crowd. Once you reach the turntables, Hank is there to greet you both.

"Woah, Dave, you know Hank?" John's confused face got even more confused, if that were possible. Hank laughs heartily.

"You didn't tell him?" he asks. You shake your head in confirmation. "Well, then, ET, you're going to be in for a great surprise! Go kill 'em, Strider." He shakes your hand as he leads you up the steps. You turn and wave to John, reassuring him that everything is going to plan, and that he should just sit there and relax. One of you guys should at least relax. You were pretty much shaking like a leaf. You pull up your hood and look down at the turntable, getting yourself situated. Good 'ol Hank pulled through. He had installed a turntable that was almost like the one you used to have as a kid. You ran your fingers over the buttons and knobs and you felt right at home. Everything was so familiar to you.

"ATTENTION!" Hank's voice booms through a microphone. "We've got a special guest in the house today. This is his debut, so everyone, treat him kindly." He turns to you and you wave at the crowd, trying to keep a straight face. "Everyone, give it up, for DJ STRI!" He held out the last syllable in announcer-like fashion and you almost die right then and there. You totally forgot to tell him to think of a new DJ name for you, but it was too late. Besides, this may only be a one-time gig. You swallow your pride and ignore it.

You've got the CDs all set and ready. Your fingers are over the buttons. You're ready to go, when suddenly, the lights dim out and you can see absolutely nothing at all. You're about to yell out for someone to turn the lights back on, but you can still feel the heat of a spotlight on you, and there's no change in the crowd's murmuring. That's when you realize that that was the moment your sight has failed you. Great, just great. Of all the times to go blind, it has to be NOW? You can feel yourself trembling, and the crowd getting restless. And John is there. John, the most important person. You can't possibly let him down.

So you tell yourself. You've got this. This is just like old times. DJ Stri. The coolkid.

You feel around and you realize once again that John and Hank were right. You never forget. You hit the play button and it starts. The music streams through the speakers, and you're working your magic. You can hear the crowd swelling up, and the club vibrates as they start moving to the beat. The bass pounds and you can still hear everything. You can hear everything. You can feel everything.

You realize that it was just like closing your eyes and immersing yourself in the music. And you really were killing it. Music is your weapon, and you are killing the club.

Hours fly by with you at the tables. It feels as if it were only minutes, but then again, you always seemed to lose time whenever you were immersed in your music. Your last song ends and you stand there a bit awkwardly, since you don't want to trip on the stairs and kill yourself. You don't move until you feel someone run into you and put their arms around you.

"Dave, that was amazing!" It was John's voice, and you're so relieved, you put your arms around him too. "This really was a great surprise! I'm so, so proud of you, oh my gosh!" He pulls you closer and puts his head on your shoulders.

"Yeah, well, I have one more surprise for you, John," you say, voice wavering just a bit. you feel him pull away from you and you're not sure where to face. "I can't see."


End file.
